Angelina's emotions were almost calling to Fred. He had gone-floated-to the cemetary, curious to see his grave. He'd been near one of the gates, barely a haze, when she had appeared. He could feel himself become more visible, and he couldn't help but drift towards her. She was crying, over him.
Stopping behind her, he wished he could touch her. He had loved her so much. He tried making a sound, which ended up sounding like the wind. Fred drifted closer to Angelina, and tried again. "I miss you too," his voice was soft, and he hated it. He didn't mind the being dead, for the most part, but he really hated not doing anything. Not being able to talk, to touch, play pranks...